Unexpected Gifts
by Bronwyn Hollingsworth
Summary: AU: TW/Highlander, sort of. ch5:Marsden's grin was also more dazzling than Jack's, "I take it he's new. Hon," he said to Ianto, "if you live long enough you'll learn that when it comes to immortals, walking like a duck and talking like a duck doesn't always make you a duck." Methos/Ianto
1. Chapter 1

_Hello there. This is not your typical crossover and it might be a little, um, controversial might be the right word. Or maybe just plain unusual. This story was somewhat inspired by those ridiculous fics where fangirls are sucked into the reality of their favorite show or book. But it is NOT ATALL like that…I hope. The idea also came to me in a moment of Jack detestation, Ianto's my favorite and if Jack's not gonna feel the same about him, well then, we'll just put Ianto with someone else. But to do that, I felt he had to be far away from Jack, 'cos let's face it, the man loves that narcissist so much, he's blinded to others when he's around. At least, that's what I feel. Besides I thought it would be fun._

_Summary: Ianto wakes up to find himself in an alternate reality, very alternate. Torchwood doesn't exist and one of his favorite shows is real-life. He first meets Methos (after being killed by a mugger, that is), oh and it's 1996. Poor Ianto is terribly confused, unsure if he's dreaming and wondering if the rules of time travel apply. He is going to try very hard not to be a Mary-Sue though and will never admit how he knows what that means._

_Warning: Jack-lovers might not approve because there's Jack-bashing. There's not so much Gwen-bashing in this chapter, at least I wouldn't call it that, but there will likely be some later on—I'd have to check._

_Pairings: Ianto/Methos (eventually), Jack/Ianto (past)_

* * *

**Unexpected Gifts**

Ianto woke up in a daze, brain fuzzy and not knowing how he ended up in this alley way. His first instinct was to tap his Bluetooth and call for Jack. But his Bluetooth was not there and after a quick inspection neither was his gun.

He stood up "Jack!" he called again "Jack!" He pulled out his mobile "Damn, no service. How can there be no service?"

Then he remembered. He had gone to the pub. Had he really gotten so wasted that he couldn't remember how he got in this alley way? He stepped out of the alley to see if that would put some bars on his phone.

A man who looked like a drug addict approached him "Give me your money" he pulled out a switch blade.

Ianto held up his hands and took a step back "Sorry mate, I spent my last cash at the pub. You know how it is."

"I'll take what I can." he came at Ianto.

Ianto backed into the alley "You really don't want to do that."

….

Methos hadn't been to Cardiff in many long years, mainly because he wasn't overly fond of it. But after the mess with Galati and the watchers he wanted to go somewhere nobody would think to look. Cardiff was the winner, at least for now. He'd probably go to Tibet later. Yak butter though, it played hell with the digestion.

He stopped in his tracks when he felt the presence of a pre-immortal. He looked to his right down an alley and saw a thug attacking a young man—the pre-immortal. Peachy. Methos stood there a moment, considering whether or not to help the soon to be new immortal or leave him for someone else. Or he could try and save the kid before he dies.

Methos sighed "I have been spending far too much time around MacLeod" he ran down the alley but too late, the young well-dressed man had been stabbed. "That was rude" he said to the thug.

The thug turned and came at him with a switch blade but Methos caught his arm and broke it causing him to drop the blade. Methos regarded him calmly "I suggest you run before I kill you."

The thug squawked and ran.

Methos looked down at the young man on the ground, stabbed in the abdomen more than once, he was dead already. "Damn." He knelt next to him, the man couldn't be more than twenty-four or twenty-five; he had strong Celtic features and was wearing a suit. Methos dug in his pockets and found the kid's wallet. The ID photo matched, name Ianto Jones so he was Welsh and he was born in 1983. That didn't make sense. 1973 would be more accurate. Maybe it was a typo or this kid got screwed over for a fake ID. He put the wallet back, stood and leaned against the wall to wait.

It wasn't very long before Ianto woke up. He gasped, sat up, looked around frantically and scrambled up against the opposite wall. He began to mutter in Welsh. Methos couldn't tell if he saw him or not.

The young man had his knees to his chest and hands on his head. He was crying. Methos sighed again; his presence always did feel powerful to new ones. He knelt next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "This may be a stupid…" Methos began in Welsh.

The lad yelped and scrambled to his feet "Who, what?"

Methos stood "question but are you all right?" he finished.

The man flattened himself against the opposite wall, he looked absolutely terrified but that was to be expected. He put a hand to his head and took a breath "I've got a pounding headache."

"That happens, it will pass soon. Do you know what happened to you?" Methos indicated the switchblade sized holes in the man's waist coat.

He looked down at himself "I felt the knife go into me. I told him I didn't have any cash." He looked up at Methos "It's been a horrible week. Who are you?"

"Adam Pierson and you are?"

The Welshman's eyes widened "What? I should be dead."

Methos sighed, that was a common response "And now you're not. You're immortal."

"What? That's impossible. This can't be right. Where am I?"

"Cardiff, unfortunately. What's your name?" well Methos didn't need to tell him he looked through his wallet.

"No, this can't be right. I need to call Jack. I'm not immortal." He pulled out a small metallic object and flipped it open like a cellular phone "Damn it, still no bars. I was at the pub, got sloshed. You're not real. Adam Pierson is the alias of a character called Methos on a TV show from the 90s. He was played by Peter Wingfield who you look just like." His mouth fell open and he gasped "what the hell is going on?"

Methos stared at him for a long moment, unsure how to respond to that rant and finally he said "I'm wondering the same thing."

"It's true though. I must be dreaming."

"I don't think you're dreaming, lad."

"But I have to be unless I'm somehow in an alternate reality."

There was an idea, Methos thought but he'd have to find out about this TV show before handing down judgment. So he said "Do you have a name I can call you?"

The Welshman took a breath "Sorry yes, Ianto Jones."

"Okay Ianto, I think it's best if we continue this conversation elsewhere" he took off his coat and handed it to Ianto, "wear this, cover those holes in your suit."

With shaking hands Ianto put on the coat "Are you Methos then?"

"What'd I just say about this conversation?"

"Sorry. Can I ask what year it is?"

"1996, does that work for you?"

Ianto blinked "I was thirteen in 1996."

"I'll take that as a no. Come on" Methos left the alley with Ianto close behind.

"Where are we going?"

"You ask an awful lot of questions, kid."

"Sorry, I don't usually."

"My hotel isn't far. You can have a shower if you like, you smell like you've not seen one in a couple days and like you've been hanging around fish."

"I haven't, thank you and it was more like a whale."

Methos stopped suddenly and turned to face him.

Ianto faltered "Something wrong?"

Methos looked into Ianto's blue eyes, they were far too weary for one so young "You must have been through hell recently."

Ianto scoffed "Recently? Try all my life" then he blinked and looked down. He hadn't meant to share that.

"Hmm, well come on then."

…

Methos took Ianto to his hotel room and pointed him to the bathroom "You can wear some of my clothes, they should fit you" he dug in his suitcase "sweats all right?" he glanced over his shoulder.

Ianto was hovering in the doorway to the bathroom "Fine, thank you. Um, do you mind my lack of underwear?" his face was beet red.

"Not at all. You want a clean pair of mine?"

"No that's all right."

"Ah you're one of those" he gave Ianto the clothes "help yourself to the towels. I'm going to order room service. You want anything?"

"Coffee, please."

"Anything else?"

"Whatever you're having I guess."

"Okay."

…

The shower felt good, there hadn't been time to take one in the past couple of days. He wondered since Methos obviously smelled the alien whale on if he could smell Jack's scent as well. The hot water also helped clear Ianto's head. Was this really happening? Could he actually be in a reality where Highlander was real? If so, why? How? Was he so drunk that he stepped through the Rift and that's how he got here?

A dream made more sense. He'd dreamt of Methos before, he was his favorite character after all. And admittedly before Jack, Methos though fictional had been the only one Ianto would ever consider turning gay for…well, maybe that wasn't exactly accurate.

And don't even go down that train of thought, Ianto.

"Oh God, what's going on?" if this was real, Ianto decided to just go along with it and see what happened. But was he was really immortal now? What for? Okay, don't ask questions right now, Ianto, just go with it. Maybe Methos has some idea. Why the hell hadn't he worn any underpants today? Oh yes, he had planned to stay with Jack tonight but after that scene in the Hub with Gwen, he figured Jack might want to be on his own and brood on one of his rooftops.

He got out of the shower, dried off and slipped into Methos's sweat suit. They fit Ianto quite well which indicated to him that they were baggy on Methos. Assuming this whole thing was real, was this man calling himself Adam Pierson actually Methos? Of course he was, Ianto decided. It made sense. He knew about immortals and there was the way he reacted when Ianto asked.

Ianto wiped the mirror down first and began to dry the water droplets in the tub when there was a knock on the door.

"Ianto? You okay in there?"

Ianto opened the door "Yes, thanks."

Methos arched an eyebrow "Were you cleaning?"

"Just drying off."

"You know they pay other people to do that."

Blushing fiercely Ianto set the towel down "Sorry."

Methos smirked slightly "Food's here if you're interested." He moved and sat at a small table by the window "and there's no need to apologize."

Ianto followed and sat opposite him. On the table there was a pot of coffee, cups and a tray of sandwiches. Without thinking Ianto poured coffee for himself and Methos.

Methos arched an eyebrow at him "I thought they stopped making young men with manners."

Ianto set the coffee pot down "What do you mean?"

"If you're supposed to be thirteen this year, you were born in 1983."

"That's correct."

"The young men I've met in that age group are little hoodlums."

Ianto blushed again and laughed nervously "Yeah that used to be me" his eyes fell on the sandwiches.

Methos shoved the tray towards him "No need to stand on formality with me. Go on."

Ianto first took a sip of coffee and relished it. It was good coffee, not quite up to his caliber but multitudes better than nothing. The sandwich was roast beef and cheddar and Ianto bit into it hungrily.

"So what year is it supposed to be for you?"

Ianto swallowed and thought how Jack would handle this situation. Jack would probably be evasive and might refuse help. But if this was an alternate reality then Ianto didn't know anyone and he trusted Methos. And sometimes honesty was the best way to go about things "2007." And if it was a dream he was going to bloody well enjoy it.

"So you're about twenty-four?"

Ianto shook his head "Just turned last month, well last month for me anyway. August 19th" he spoke without thinking "Jack got me a new stopwatch."

"Jack?"

"Uh, he's my boss."

"Boss, huh? Look on your face says different."

"He's my friend too."

Methos smirked again "Your '_special_ friend'?"

Ianto blinked "Oh yeah, this is the nineties."

Methos laughed and then said "Don't be embarrassed. He's your lover then."

Ianto relaxed somewhat and nodded "He's also my boss."

"Shagging the boss, you don't seem the type."

"That's what Jack likes about me" Ianto finished his sandwich and noticed that Methos hadn't touched any yet. "Aren't you hungry?"

"The way you hoovered up that sandwich, I'm gonna guess you need food more than me."

Ianto picked up another sandwich "Thank you." Drinking always made him famished, in addition to the fact he hadn't eaten since pizza the night before.

"Tell me about this TV show of yours."

Ianto swallowed the food in his mouth. He had to tell him about Highlander now considering he'd already brought it up. But he would try not to give too much away in case this reality was just like the show. The rules of time travel might well apply in this case. "It's called Highlander and it's about Duncan MacLeod."

Methos rolled his eyes "why doesn't that surprise me?"

"MacLeod deals with different immortals, friends and enemies in each episode. The character of Methos was introduced in the third season after Fitzcairn was killed."

"That's very interesting. You're a fan of this show?"

"Yes. I didn't get into it till it was in reruns and I was on my own to be honest. Actually, it was my girlfriend's brother who introduced me to it."

"Why do you like it?"

"Sword fighting and Amanda's hot." That's what he told people anyway.

Methos smiled "That she is."

Ianto reached for a third sandwich and looked down at the table "But Methos is my favorite character."

"Oh? Why's that?"

Ianto looked up at him "You're cool."

He sighed "I guess there's no point in lying to you then. Yes I am Methos."

Ianto took a breath "Is this an alternate reality then?"

"Certainly seems that way. Though I can't explain why you're here and why you're an immortal. I assume you have blood parents."

Ianto nodded "Yes. What happens now then?"

"Now, finish your sandwich, give me your size and I'll go get you some fresh clothes and shoes—there's some sort of ick on them. I suggest you get some rest while I'm gone."

…

Methos's hotel room had two beds and it was quite obvious which one he was sleeping in. Clearly the maids hadn't been in. Ianto couldn't help himself, he made up Methos's bed before settling into the other one. His tense muscles relaxed as soon as he lay down.

"Oh god" he groaned "that's nice." This was much better than Jack's no good excuse for a bed and it had been days since Ianto had last seen his own.

…

Being 5,000 years old, give or take, Methos was open to more ideas than most. To quote that fop Shakespeare, there are more things in heaven and earth and all that rot. Okay, that might have been paraphrasing. He'd have to ask Ianto more questions about this Highlander show but he was starting to believe the boy was from an alternate reality. Whoever's in charge must have thought Ianto deserved a second chance at life, but why and why here? Then there was the fact that Ianto hadn't mentioned anything about dying in his reality. But maybe he was so drunk he didn't realize it. And why was Methos being so nice to him? Oh yeah, he was a sucker for hard luck cases. Especially the cute ones.

Methos bought Ianto a couple pairs of jeans, some shirts and other necessities. Ianto was asleep when Methos got back to the hotel. He looked so peaceful, until he started twitching and moaning.

Methos sat on the bed next to him and shook him gently "Ianto? Ianto, wake up."

Ianto screamed as he sat up "Jack? Jack?" his eyes were darting in all directions.

Methos held Ianto's shoulders firmly "Ianto, calm down. It's me."

Ianto's eyes cleared and focused on Methos. He breathed deeply "Methos? When did you get back?"

"Just now. You were dreaming."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize for having a nightmare, Ianto. Are you okay?"

"I don't know. What time is it?"

"Just gone seven. Tell you what, why don't you get dressed and we'll go out to the pub. I bet you could use a drink."

"Oh, God, yes" even though he had drunk himself into a stupor what seemed like only a few hours before. He was Welsh after all.

After Ianto put on his new jeans and a long sleeve shirt and his shoes, they were on their way. They were just going to the pub down the street.

"In a few days we'll get you an identity" Methos told him "since you don't actually exist in this reality."

Ianto nodded "and if I do, I'm a thirteen year old boy in Newport, well twelve since it's only June."

Methos looked at him "You like being precise don't you?"

"I don't know if I like it, I can't help it. Everyone accuses me of having OCD."

"Is that why you made my bed?"

"Sorry."

Methos rolled his eyes "I'm going to start charging you for how many times you tell me sorry."

Ianto opened his mouth and then promptly clamped it shut.

Methos chuckled and stopped in front of the pub.

"Oh this exists in my Cardiff" Ianto said "in fact it was the pub I went to last night or whenever that was."

Methos opened the door "Grab us a table and I'll get the drinks. What'll you have?"

"Pint will do, ta."

…

Ianto got a table in a quiet corner of the pub. It was good luck that Methos was the one who found him and that he seemed to be a genuinely caring person. In the show, he seemed rather indifferent most of the time except with Alexa. He also cared about MacLeod in his own way.

Methos sat across from him and gave him his pint "Brains all right?"

Ianto tilted his head "There was another choice?"

Methos smiled "So underneath the OCD you are a typical Welshman."

Ianto nodded "with pride." And Ianto just had to ask "What about you? The actor who played you is Welsh; I'm surprised you actually speak with a Welsh accent."

"Oh shit, I do?" he blinked "huh." Then he smiled "I actually do love the Welsh. It's Cardiff I hate."

"Then why are you here?"

"Nobody will think to look for me here. Adam Pierson is sort of MIA from the Watchers."

Ianto thought as to why that would be "Thing with Galati?"

Methos nodded "and what season was that in?"

"Fourth season finale. So I guess that makes this between seasons four and five."

"Is that significant?"

Ianto shrugged "Only for my reference" he took a drink "so, do I need to learn how to use a sword?"

"Yes but we don't have to start that right away." Methos sighed, "you feeling any better? That nightmare didn't sound pleasant."

"It wasn't." Ianto took another drink "I'd rather not talk about it in a public location."

"Stop bloody complaining about bloody Doctor Who" one man said to another. They were at the next table "it's been weeks."

Ianto's head snapped in that direction "Doctor what?"

"It's a TV show," Methos explained "been on since the 60s. Don't you have it where you come from?"

Ianto shook his head.

Methos leaned over "What's the problem with Doctor Who?"

"You see that new TV movie with the 8th Doctor?" the other man asked.

"Not yet. How was it?"

"I don't think it should have taken place in America. It doesn't belong there. If they were tired of England and I don't blame them they could have brought it here to Wales."

"Where in America did it take place?" Methos asked.

"San Francisco, the Master made the Tardis crash."

Tardis? Isn't that what…?

The man continued "Then the Doctor was shot which made him regenerate."

The Doctor?

"Oh my God" Ianto stood up "I, uh, need some air." He hurried outside and leaned against a lamppost. If the Doctor was fictional in this reality, did that mean Torchwood was too?

"Ianto, are you okay?" Methos had joined him outside.

Ianto took a breath "Doctor Who isn't a show in my reality because he's real."

Methos's mouth dropped open "Are you serious?"

Ianto nodded "Jack traveled with him, was gone for two months because of it."

"Have you met him?"

"No but I was in the same building once. There were cybermen and daleks."

Methos stared at him "Wait, daleks and cybermen in the same space?"

"Yep, they were trying to kill each other."

"Shit."

"It's a long story."

"I imagine. Let's just go back to the hotel."

"I didn't even finish my beer."

"We'll pick up a six pack."

…

When they got back to the hotel room Ianto asked "Is there anything called Torchwood in Doctor Who?"

"Not that I know of but that doesn't mean anything. Perhaps after this new movie they'll write new adventures. What's Torchwood?"

Ianto told him and told him about the Battle of Canary Wharf.

Methos looked just plain amazed "Only twenty-seven survivors and you were one of them. Good on you."

Ianto shrugged; he didn't want to talk about Lisa quite yet. "Then I got a job with Torchwood Cardiff. Mind I had to work to convince Jack, he didn't trust Torchwood London."

"What's Jack like?"

Ianto took a breath "He's from the 51st century. He's never said how he met the Doctor but I reckon it was when they were both in the same time. Jack was a time agent, apparently humans figure out how to travel in time. They are also very open-minded in 51st century; Jack'll shag anything if it's gorgeous enough."

"Good looking himself?" Since when did Methos ask questions about other people?

"Very, man's smile can charm anyone and he's got these bloody intoxicating pheromones."

"How'd he end up in the 21st century? Did the Doctor leave him there? He has a habit of doing that to his companions."

Oh whatever; it's not like Jack was here to tell him to keep quiet. "When Jack was traveling with him before—he has twice, somehow Jack became immortal and the Doctor left him on a space station. Jack tried to follow with his own time travel device but he ended up in 1869 Cardiff and got stuck. He didn't realize he was immortal till the 1890s." He hadn't known this before of course, but when Jack got back, all Ianto did was ask 'What's the Doctor like?' and Jack told him everything—they were basking in the afterglow of sex at the time. Ianto had known about the Doctor because he worked at TW1, none of the others knew what Jack's doctor really was (not even Tosh who had met him once). And Ianto had to admit, he took great pleasure in that.

"It took him that long?"

"He can be a little obtuse at times."

They fell into an easy silence after that and just sat drinking. Ianto had to wonder why Methos hadn't asked him what he was doing drinking so much. Or why he'd had a nightmare. He didn't feel like breaking the silence. That and he really didn't want to talk about it right now.

Around eleven the beer was finished and Ianto started to yawn and his eyes felt heavy.

Methos stretched with a yawn "Time for bed I think."

…

Methos was awoken around two by the sound of sobbing. His first thought was that the hotel was haunted but then he remembered he wasn't alone. He sat up and looked over at Ianto, the young man was crying in his sleep and mumbling words Methos couldn't make out.

What had happened to him? He was far too young to have such sadness in his eyes. That was all Methos saw while they were drinking their beer, a deep sadness that didn't belong in his young eyes. Methos decided then and there to do what he could to bring light to those blue orbs. Perhaps that's why Ianto was put here, if Methos was good at anything it was making young people who had to grow up too fast feel young again.

He did that with Alexa and she died happy. But he had had so little time to make her happy. Ianto on the other hand wouldn't be dying (again) any time soon so Methos had much more time.

He got out of bed and went over to Ianto "Ianto?" he put a hand on his shoulder "wake up."

Ianto's eyes fluttered open "Methos?" he snuffled.

"Who else would it be? Are you all right? You were dreaming again."

The young man sat up "I'm…"

"Don't apologize" Methos turned on the bedside lamp "you want to talk about it? Might make you feel better. But I won't push."

Ianto wiped his hand across his eyes and took a shuddering breath "I've been having nightmares since Canary Wharf. Jack helped to keep them away, I guess since he's not here…Who am I kidding? I shouldn't be with him anyway. I'm not the one he wants."

"What do you mean?"

"I think he'd rather be with Gwen."

"Why do you think that?"

"She threatened to quit if she had to retcon her fiancé. Jack practically admitted in front of all us that he couldn't live without her in his life. So I didn't stay with him last night, went drinking instead. I shouldn't be this upset but…"

"You're in love with him." Methos pulled him into a hug and let him cry on his shoulder. When Ianto cried himself back to sleep, Methos eased him out of his arms and then went to the window for some air. That poor boy and his pain ran deeper than a one sided love. Methos would make that pain go away, somehow. He fell asleep thinking of delightful ways to kill this Jack character. Again and again.

* * *

_So, do you want to see more? If so, you can expect the next chapter in mid-October, depending on my schedule. If you don't like this story, please DON'T tell me, I don't want to know. But if you like it, then by all means, let me know. Thank you._

_-Bronwyn_


	2. Chapter 2

_So I decided to post this chapter sooner than I intended. Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed and are reading this._

_In this chapter, Methos decides to take Ianto to a house he has in Wales to begin his training. They have to drive through the Brecon Beacons though and Ianto is not happy about that. Before they head out, they run into Duncan MacLeod and he decides to tag along._

* * *

Ianto woke to the smell of coffee.

"Good morning" Methos said cheerily.

"Morning," Ianto got out of bed and accepted the cup Methos held out to him, "Thank you."

"I hope you're up for a drive through the countryside today."

Ianto was still groggy so he said without thinking, "The last time someone said that to me I was nearly eaten by cannibals."

Methos arched an eyebrow, "I can't wait to hear it but I have a house outside Caernarfon; we'll stay there while you get used to things."

"We don't have to go through the Beacons do we?"

"I really can't wait to hear this story. It's the shortest route. Don't worry, unless coffee goes straight though you we won't even have to stop."

Ianto knew that Cardiff to Caernarfon was only about four hours, "I should be fine."

"Good, now get ready. We'll have breakfast before leaving town."

…

They ate breakfast at a little bakery that had been a favorite of Methos's for over a century.

"Food was so much better a hundred years ago," Methos muttered.

"I think it's delicious," Ianto said as he bit into his bacon sarnie. But he dropped the sandwich as a sudden headache hit him. He saw Methos tense and then relax somewhat as the bakery door opened.

"Mac," Methos drawled, "what are you doing here?"

Duncan MacLeod approached them "Adam, what are you doing here?"

"I asked you first."

MacLeod sighed, "antiquing."

"In a bakery?"

"I'm hungry and I like this place. Who's your friend?"

Methos smiled, "Duncan MacLeod, this is Ianto Jones, he's brand new."

Ianto gave MacLeod a polite smile and stood. He held out his hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

MacLeod shook his hand, "And you."

"Ianto's only twenty-four," Methos said, "but his manners tell me he was born in the wrong century."

Ianto felt his face flush and he sat back down.

"Good," MacLeod said, "maybe you can learn something from him."

"Ha ha."

MacLeod smirked.

Methos rolled his eyes, "you can join us if you like."

Once MacLeod went up to the counter Methos muttered, "what is he doing here?"

"He said antiquing," Ianto said.

"That was a rhetorical question." Then he leaned over and whispered in Welsh, "we'll keep this alternate reality thing between us, okay."

Ianto nodded in agreement.

After a few minutes MacLeod joined them at the table, "So Adam, you're teaching then?"

"Isn't that obvious?"

"What are you two up to today?"

"Road trip," Methos answered, "Ianto seems to think there are cannibals in the Welsh countryside. I intend to prove him wrong."

Ianto dropped his sandwich again, "What? You said we weren't going to stop."

Methos grinned rather wickedly.

Ianto glared at him, "You're evil."

Methos laughed and leaned back, "Mind the kid is from Newport, much too close to the English border. That could explain it."

"Not my fault I was born there."

MacLeod rolled his eyes and said to Ianto, "Aggravating isn't he?"

Ianto nodded, "and I've only known him a day."

Methos tossed a napkin at him, "You're not supposed to side with MacLeod. And you," he said to the Scot, "are not supposed to influence my students."

MacLeod rolled his eyes again and then said, "Can we talk outside?"

Methos sighed, "Fine, stay here Ianto."

…

"What?" Methos asked once the two of them were outside.

"What are you doing in Cardiff?"

Methos shrugged, "Haven't been in a while. I found Ianto yesterday, he'd been mugged and stabbed with a switchblade."

"Is he handling it okay?"

"Of course, he's Welsh. But you didn't bring me out here to talk about him."

"You just disappeared from Paris."

"Am I supposed to ask your permission? I wasn't aware we were in that kind of relationship MacLeod."

Mac sighed, "That's not what I meant. I was worried the Watchers got to you."

Methos scoffed, "Please. I quit, mind I didn't exactly tell them that. Oh well. How's Joe?"

"He told me they've fired Shapiro and Joe's back in. I've stopped communicating with him."

"We'll see how long that lasts."

"Methos, his friendship with me nearly got him killed. I'm trying to protect him."

"And because of that you will talk to him again. You have a savior complex."

"So do you."

Methos blinked, "I beg your pardon. What gives you that idea?"

"Alexa."

"That's not enough evidence to accuse me of having savior complex."

"You dropped everything to help me when I had the Dark Quickening."

"I did that because I'm your friend not because I…you know, Ianto and I have to be hitting the road," he took out a pen and grabbed Duncan's hand, "this is my address, stop by if you want. You and Ianto can discuss the Welsh and Scottish common dislike of the English."

"How about I just come along?"

"Seriously?"

"Well if there really are killers in the countryside, I'd like to know about it."

"See, savior complex."

"I've also got a friend who works at Snowdonia. I might as well tag along with you."

"Fine but you can follow in your car, there's no room in mine."

"That's fine."

…

"Why is he following us?" Ianto asked once they were on the road.

"He has a savior complex, if there really are cannibals in the countryside he wants to know about it."

"Oh."

Methos sighed, "I shouldn't have brought it up. Oh well, if we do run into vicious cannibals we have the big strong Highlander to protect us. Or they can always eat him."

"Do you want to hear the story?"

"Go on then."

Ianto took a breath, "There'd been disappearances in the Brecon Beacons, seventeen in five months. The police had no idea so we thought it could be Torchwood related. We were wrong." He told Methos about the body in the forest and the stolen SUV, how he and Tosh were captured and put in that basement. "It wasn't until we were taken up to the kitchen and met the leader that we realized the creatures doing this were humans." He told him how Tosh got away and how he was knocked out again. When he woke up and the bag was taken off his head, the knife was to his throat "but then there was this rumbling and Jack came crashing through the wall on a tractor and shot the villagers."

"Did he kill them?"

"No, he was going to kill the leader but Gwen stopped him."

"Whatever for? I'd have killed him. MacLeod would have killed him."

"She wanted to question him."

"Why?"

"She wanted to know why the villagers were eating other humans."

"Did Jack let her question him?"

"Yes."

"Idiot. Was she satisfied with what she heard?"

"I don't think so."

"There is no answer, no reason. People who do that are just insane and evil."

"You ever try it?"

"Beg pardon?" Methos looked at him.

"Caspian was a cannibal, wasn't he?"

Methos slammed down the breaks, "What? How do you…?" he took a deep breath "damn. Do I even want to know the plot of how that was revealed?"

"Probably not. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said."

MacLeod had stopped behind them, "Everything okay?' he called. He was sticking his head out the window.

Methos pulled to the side of the road, they were now in the rolling countryside and the only two cars on the road. He got out "Yeah," he said to MacLeod, "I just need to pee." He walked a little ways into the field, his back to the cars and seemingly relieved himself.

That actually wasn't a bad idea and Ianto got out of the car too, after making sure the keys were not in the ignition.

MacLeod apparently felt the same as he too parked and got out of his car.

Methos turned around, "Good God, it's like yawning. Well hurry up then."

…

When they were back in the car Ianto said, "I know you're not like that anymore."

Methos sighed, "We'll talk about it later. And in answer to your question, once; I was sick for a week. I didn't want to try it by the way. I was forced to. I was a vegetarian for a year after that."

A little while later when they reached a very familiar stretch of road, they got a flat tire and Methos was forced to pull over again. "Son of a bitch," he swore.

They both got out. MacLeod did the same. While those two looked over Methos's car, Ianto looked at the road.

"You have got to be kidding me. Guys!" he called to them.

"What is it?" they came and stood next to him.

Ianto pointed, the road was littered with nails.

"Well that's not very nice," Methos said.

Shivers ran down Ianto's spine, "Can we hurry and change the tire and get out of here please?"

"What makes you think there are cannibals here?" MacLeod asked him.

Ianto already had that answer prepared, "Story my grandfather used to tell me."

Methos sighed and leaned against his car, "There are actually stories about that. They date back to the 1700s, every ten years people travelling through disappear. I never believed them, the Welsh are always telling stories to scare outsiders, especially the English."

"Hey…well that's true but beside the point."

MacLeod had gotten a map from his car, "There's a small village not far from here. Let's check it out."

Without thinking Ianto clutched at Methos, "Oh no, please."

Methos eased out of his grip, "It's noon, we still have plenty of daylight left. We might as well stop for lunch. I've got sandwiches in the boot" he popped the boot and began to dig through it.

"It'll be all right," MacLeod told Ianto, "we are all immortal."

"Here," Methos put a gun in Ianto's hand, "this make you feel better?"

"Yes, thank you, you're a saint," Ianto checked the gun, made sure the safety was on and stuck it in his waistband.

Both Methos and MacLeod stared at Ianto's choice of a gun location.

Methos shook his head, "Just be careful because that doesn't grow back."

Thinking about that, Ianto moved the gun to the small of his back.

…

They sat near the cars to eat lunch. "Ianto," Methos said, "You can call me Methos around MacLeod. He knows."

MacLeod stared at Methos, "_He_ knows?"

Methos sighed, "I'm tired of being Adam Pierson. Besides, I was tired when I met him. I introduced myself with my real name without thinking."

Ianto marveled at just how easily Methos could lie. Of course the man did have 5,000 years of experience.

…

Ianto was clearly not happy as they walked along towards the village. Due to his emotional state, it was probably not a good idea to be doing this. But, and Methos hated to admit it, like Mac, if there were cannibals, Methos wanted them stopped. He may have given up on guilt (until he met Mac anyway) but that didn't mean he was about to let evil have its way if he ran into it and was in a position to stop it. And that certainly didn't mean he had a savior complex. Because, by thunder, he expected something in return—unlike some people who do it because "it's the right thing to do." Methos was saving up favors.

They walked in silence till they came to a group of buildings. The whole time with Ianto in the lead a little as if he knew where he was going.

Ianto stopped and crossed his arms, he muttered in Welsh, "I am not going after the SUV."

"What did he say?" Mac asked.

"Don't you speak Welsh?"

"No."

"It's not important, it was naughty," Methos put a hand on Ianto's shoulder, "calm down, Ianto. There's no SUV to go after" he whispered.

Ianto exhaled, "Sorry, I still have nightmares about this."

It was definitely not a good thing to be doing this. "It'll be okay, Ianto. Nobody's going to be eaten."

"This has been a horrible week."

"I know. I assume you have a plan, MacLeod."

"Let's check the pub."

"Our cars are going to be missing when we get back to them," Ianto said, "it's what happens in horror movies."

"This isn't a horror movie," Mac said.

"Yes it is."

Methos sighed, "Forgive him, Duncan, he's young and impressionable."

"Hey," Ianto said.

"Hay is for horses, Ianto."

The three of them entered the pub, it was empty. Methos wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. It wasn't he decided, as a familiar smell hit his nose, "MacLeod, smell that?"

Mac's face became grave, well, graver, "Yes." They followed the smell to a bathroom where they found a dead body. Well to be more accurate, a human carcass. The room was splattered with blood.

Ianto reacted immediately, he started to gag and ran back to the main pub where he vomited in a rubbish bin.

Methos knelt next to him and held him steady. "Mac," he said, "maybe we should call the police."

"I'm looking for a phone now. Here it is," he found one on the bar and picked it up, "line's dead."

"Why am I not surprised?"

Ianto had finished vomiting and was now leaning against Methos, "Can't we just go back the way we came?" then he whimpered as the three of them felt the presence of another immortal.

"Phone doesn't work," a Welshman came in through the front door and he sounded evil, "now this is interesting."

The color in Ianto's face drained even further when he saw the newcomer and he scrambled away, "Oh God."

Methos stood as Mac said, "I'm Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, who are you?"

"Name's Evan Sherman," he stepped closer to them. "What's wrong with the young one?"

At this point, Ianto was having a full blown panic attack.

"Bad reaction to the bathroom," Methos said calmly. "I'm Llewellyn, you wouldn't happen to know what's going on around here, do you?" Methos tried to remember where he knew the name Evan Sherman from.

Sherman smiled darkly, "and if I do?"

"Then you're outnumbered."

"There are rules aren't there?"

Mac's hand was inside his coat, "Are you responsible for this?"

"For what?"

"The blood bath in the bathroom," Methos said.

"Ah," he walked passed Methos and looked in the room, "no I didn't do that. What a mess. That's sure to lose customers."

Methos shared a look with Mac, even if Sherman hadn't killed that person himself, he was involved somehow.

As Sherman came back towards them he gave Ianto an evil smile and said, "It's not so bad."

Methos had been running watcher files though his head this whole time and it finally clicked. "You were Evan Caspari's student."

Sherman grinned, "You know my mentor?"

"I know if I ever see him again, I'll kill him. This one's mine MacLeod," normally Methos was content to let Mac kill the bad guys but this would give him a sense of satisfaction. He pulled out his sword.

"Maybe you're the ones who are outnumbered," Sherman said.

"Draw your sword anyway."

"If you insist," he did so.

"Duncan, get Ianto out of here."

…

Duncan knew Methos was serious when he called him Duncan. So he pulled Ianto to his feet and had to drag him outside. The poor boy was hysterical, either he had never seen anything like this before or he had and this was bringing back terrible memories.

He set Ianto on a low wall, "Ianto, you need to calm down."

Ianto gulped in air, "there's more, I know there's more of them. He exists in my reality, this whole village does," he was panicked and clearly didn't have control over what he was saying.

Then Duncan realized what the young man had said, "Your reality?"

The sounds of a quickening came from inside the pub and Duncan hoped that Methos would be the one to walk out of that door.

Ianto grabbed at Duncan's coat, "You have to look; they're going to attack us. They're everywhere."

"Who is?"

"The cannibals, it's all the villagers. Where's Jack? He'll kill them all this time."

Duncan heard movement behind him before he could respond to that. He turned and it was Methos.

"I need a shower," Methos said and then he saw Ianto, "Mac, next time we change the tire and keep moving." He knelt in front of the Welshman, "Ianto, look at me. Okay, just calm down. We're leaving right now, I promise. Breathe okay, breathe."

Ianto worked to catch his breath but he managed, "You, uh, killed him?"

"Killed him dead. Let's go," Methos stood and pulled Ianto up with him, "Mac, let's just stop in the next town and tell the authorities, this is no longer our problem."

"Right," Duncan nodded, resolving to ask Methos later what Ianto had been talking about.

…

"So," Mac said when they were half-way back to the cars, they were moving quickly because it wouldn't be long before Sherman's body was found, "you know Sherman's teacher then?"

Methos did not want that line of conversation so hopefully Mac wouldn't continue it, "Unfortunately; right now he's in an insane asylum in Romania and I don't want to talk about it so drop it all right."

Mac fell silent and they reached the cars. They looked unharmed. While Methos changed his tire, Mac swept the nails out of the road. Ianto was calmer but he was constantly looking in all directions.

"I think I made a mistake," Ianto said once they were in the car and driving.

"What do you mean?" Methos checked the rear-view mirror to make sure Mac was still following them.

"I think I mentioned my reality to Duncan."

"In English?"

"Yes."

"Well you were hysterical; I doubt he'll think much of it."

Ianto groaned and leaned against the window, "I can't believe I was acting that way. I'm so embarrassed."

"Don't be."

"But I don't normally act that way. Usually more reserved."

"Why?"

Ianto shrugged, "I don't know."

"Yes you do."

"I wasn't so much before Lisa died, she was my girlfriend."

"Did you relax any with Jack?"

"Only when we were alone. I think it annoyed him that I didn't relax in public" he sighed deeply "it's how I was raised. Dad always said real men don't cry."

"Your dad was an idiot. Real men do cry and aren't afraid to admit it."

"When Dad was drunk and I'd cry he'd hit me harder."

"Your father hit you?"

"Only when he was drunk and he always apologized later."

"Doesn't make it right."

"I know," Ianto sat up, "I would think that someone as old as you wouldn't be against corporal punishment."

"There's a difference between punishment that's deserved and beating a child because you're drunk. I can't stand some people."

"I was going to be different if Lisa and I had kids. I wouldn't hurt them and I wouldn't push them too hard. Dad always pushed me too hard. My sister didn't see it, he was always nice to her. But I was the boy, I had to be tough."

"You don't have to do what he says anymore, Ianto."

"I know but sometimes…I'm sorry Methos, you probably didn't want to hear all that."

"Stop apologizing. I don't mind Ianto, really. In fact I insist; if you feel the need to talk I will listen. Did you ever talk to Jack about your childhood?"

"Not the truth of it," Ianto sighed, "besides, he didn't talk about his."

They finally reached civilization (or as close to civilization as one could get out here) and Methos found a payphone and made an anonymous tip to the police. Then Mac treated them to dinner. All three of them ordered salad.

The meal was subdued, with both Mac and Ianto brooding. Methos was trying not to. It gave him immense satisfaction to know he rid the world of a baby Caspian. And one day he would tell Caspian about it. He was quite surprised though that Caspian had a student in the first place—that he didn't kill and eat.

It was relatively late by the time they reached Methos's house outside Caernarfon. He had already planned on coming here anyway so he'd already called the power company and had the electricity turned on.

"Make yourselves at home," he told the others as he unlocked the door and switched on the lights, "I'm going to take a shower."

…

* * *

_I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please review if you did. I have a good portion of the story written already but I still need to divide it into chapters and edit it, so I don't know when the next chapter will be ready. Especially as I am going to be very busy for the next…while. But I will try and find the time._

_-Bronwyn_


	3. Chapter 3

_Now, just to let everyone know; some things are the same throughout different realities, like certain wars, the cannibals, royal families, and music artists just to name a few._

_In this chapter Duncan finds out why Ianto had such a panic attack, Ianto's training begins and he starts to get homesick._

_This chapter also contains conversations of a sensitive nature and no offense is intended._

* * *

Methos's house was a large Victorian that had obviously been updated at some point. But it was also obvious he hadn't been here in some time. The house was dusty and the furniture was covered in sheets.

"Did he not see all the sheets?" Ianto wondered aloud.

"Methos isn't a very neat person," MacLeod said.

"I've noticed. Oh well," Ianto pulled a sheet off what turned out to be a sofa.

Sighing MacLeod helped him remove all the sheets in the front room and living room where they settled to wait for Methos.

But after a few moments Ianto went in search of a dust rag. He found one under the kitchen sink and by the looks of it the kitchen hadn't been updated since the 50s. He returned to the living room and started on the coffee table.

"You like to clean don't you?" MacLeod asked.

"Can't help it."

"Ianto, you don't have to do that," Methos came down the stairs, stark naked, "I was going to hire a service."

The dust rag fell to the floor with Ianto's jaw.

"Methos, why are you naked?" MacLeod asked.

Ianto didn't see the expression on his face because he couldn't take his eyes off Methos.

"It's my house," Methos said, "and I don't seem to have any towels up there. I think there's some down here in the linen cupboard. You okay Ianto?'

"You're, uh, you're…"

Methos smiled, "you're openly staring at my penis."

Ianto's cheeks heated up, "Sorry, I, uh…"

Chuckling Methos turned around and walked off. Ianto couldn't help but stare after him. Good Lord, did Methos work out or what? Even Jack wasn't built like that. He wasn't hung like that either but then Methos wasn't circumcised and Jack had claimed that by the 51st century men are born without a foreskin. Ianto wasn't sure if he believed that.

Wait, what was Ianto thinking? Jack was the only man he was attracted to. Right?

Ianto went back to dusting the coffee table to distract his thoughts.

"Ianto?"

"Yes Mr. MacLeod?" Ianto didn't look at him.

"Never mind and you can call me Duncan."

That night, alone in a guest room, Ianto couldn't sleep nor did he want to. If he tried to sleep, he'd be plagued with either nightmares or thoughts of Jack. Maybe the Doctor was fictional here but that didn't necessarily mean Jack was. Did it? Oh, even if Jack was real here, he wouldn't be Ianto's Jack. How exactly did this alternate reality thing work anyway? Wait, from what Jack said, he wouldn't exist without the Doctor so… God, this was confusing and he was pretty sure he was getting a migraine.

He dusted the room and once it was clean to his satisfaction he stuck his head out into the hall. Methos practically ordered him not to clean but Ianto didn't want to sleep.

…

The phone was just sitting there on a table by the door. If Methos had the electricity turned on already, maybe the phone was working as well. Though Ianto was pretty much convinced he was in an alternate reality and Torchwood didn't exist, still…it was worth a try.

He picked up the phone and dialed first the number for the Hub. Jack had told him that it hadn't been changed in over ten years. Ianto sighed heavily, the number was not in service.

Let's see, 1996…was the phone number for Torchwood Tower the same as it was ten years later when it was destroyed? Ianto wasn't sure. The public knew Torchwood Tower as One Canada Square and…Ianto would have to get a phone directory. A new one. There was one under the kitchen sink, but it was from 1961.

"Anyway, let's face it Jones," he muttered to himself, "even if you were just back in time, instead of an alternate reality, you couldn't contact Torchwood or Jack. Rules of time travel and all that."

Back to cleaning then.

And why the hell did Methos keep his phone book under the kitchen sink?

…

The next morning Methos found Ianto asleep at the kitchen table. Most of the house was dust free and it seemed Ianto had also found the furniture polish. Well at least it looked like he hadn't had a nightmare, maybe the cleaning exhausted him.

Sighing Methos found his old percolator and got out the coffee they'd brought with them from Cardiff. Once the coffee was brewing Ianto started to stir.

"Who's touching my coffee machine?" he mumbled.

Methos shook his shoulder lightly, "No one because it's my percolator."

Ianto sat up, "Oh hello."

"Good morning. When did you fall asleep?"

"What time is it now?"

"Eight."

"Around six then, I know you told me not to clean but…"

"It's okay, thank you. But it's not expected of you, know that, yeah?"

Ianto nodded, "Where's Duncan?"

"I think he's doing Tai Chi or something in his room. After a while all the martial arts tend to blend together for me."

MacLeod came down a few minutes later, "Good morning, gents."

Methos arched an eyebrow, "Gents?"

"Sorry, it's the Victorian house."

"You liked the Victorian Age then?"

"Of course, didn't you?"

"Hated it, the Romantic Age, on the other hand, that was fun."

"When poets were rock stars, why doesn't that surprise me?"

Ianto was calmly sipping his coffee and said, "I like Tennyson myself but of the Romantics Byron is my favorite."

"Mine too," Methos agreed, "though he was a drug addict."

"Maybe but the Greeks view him as a hero don't they?"

Methos nodded, "That's right," and Byron never let anyone forget it too. Then he said, "I'm afraid I don't have any food here."

"I'm not hungry anyway," Ianto said.

"You should eat something," Mac said, "I could go get some doughnuts."

"If you can find some around here; I haven't been here in decades. There's bound to be Welsh cakes though," Methos said. "Mac, can we talk?"

Methos led Mac into the living room, "When are you gonna go see this friend of yours?"

"I'm meeting him tomorrow for camping. Why?"

"I'd hate to ask you to leave but with Ianto's emotional state I don't think he should be around too many people right now."

"I agree. He was a mess yesterday. I can get a hotel room till tomorrow, it's no problem. Methos, I've been meaning to ask you, he said something to me that was a little strange. He said that Sherman existed in his reality. Any idea what that means?"

Well there went Methos's theory that Mac wouldn't think too much on that. Methos sighed, "I don't know if you'd believe it."

"Try me."

"You asked for it. Ianto's from an alternate reality where Doctor Who is real."

Mac blinked, "You're right, I don't believe it."

"See."

"Seriously? Maybe that's what he thinks, maybe he's…"

"Crazy?" Methos supplied, "I would have thought that too if it hadn't been for the fact that one of the first things he told me was that I was a character on a TV show called Highlander."

"What?"

"Yeah. Mac, he knows things about us a normal fresh immortal couldn't possibly know. He knows about the watchers, he knew about Galati and he knew you and I met after Fitzcairn was killed."

"The writers admit that was a mistake," Ianto had come into the living room, "killing Fitz not introducing Methos."

Mac leaned against the wall, "That's why he knew your name."

Methos nodded, "I actually introduced myself as Adam Pierson, he came back with 'you're not real, Adam Pierson is the alias of a character called Methos on a TV show from the nineties'."

"But how is this even possible?"

"We still haven't figured that out," Ianto said, sitting on the couch.

"All I can say," Methos said, "is there are more things in heaven and earth. Just don't tell anyone, MacLeod."

"Why would I? I hardly believe it. So, you dealt with the cannibals in your reality?" Mac asked Ianto.

Ianto nodded, "2006, Evan Sherman held a butcher's knife to my throat till Jack came in."

"I don't understand," Mac said to Methos, "so he's fiction in our reality we're fiction in his but Evan Sherman exists in both?"

"Well," said Methos, "Ianto, did your reality have World Wars I and II?"

"Yes."

"There you have it, Mac; some things must be common across realities."

"Sherman's not immortal in mine though," Ianto said, "he's also not dead. He's in prison because this country had to go and abolish the death penalty."

Methos sat down next to him, "I never understood that either. Do they want to run out of room? It's not like they can send them to Australia anymore."

Mac rolled his eyes, "So Welsh cakes then?"

…

"You think he can handle this?" Ianto asked once Duncan was gone.

"Eventually."

"You think he'll tell anyone?"

Methos shook his head, "Duncan MacLeod is nothing if not trustworthy and honorable. Drives me crazy."

"Why are you friends with him?"

"I ask myself that constantly."

…

Later Ianto and Methos went to the shops for groceries and more clothes.

"Do you really need a suit?" Methos asked.

"I like suits but if it's too much trouble…"

"No it's okay, if a suit will make you more comfortable, we'll get you a suit or two."

"It's really not necessary, you don't have to be doing so much for me."

Methos sighed, "Will you stop being so damned accommodating or whatever it is you're being? I want to help you, do you not understand that?"

Ianto looked down at the ground, "I guess I'm not used to such attention, I'm s…"

"Ah, no you don't. There is no need to be sorry so stop saying that word and stop being so self-effacing. It's getting on my nerves."

"I'm—I'll try my best."

"Thank you. Now, come on, there's a tailor down the street."

…

"Do immortals get sick?" Ianto asked over their dinner of fettuccine Alfredo. They had spent the lunch hour shopping and Methos had made dinner. He actually made the pasta fresh himself.

"How do you mean?"

"Colds and the like."

Methos nodded, "But we don't die from it. You're not eating much."

"I'm not very hungry."

"Immortals can also starve to death. You're going to need your strength when we start your training."

"When will we start that?"

Methos shrugged, "Haven't decided yet, you adjusted yet?"

"We can start whenever you want."

"That's not what I asked."

"Well I don't know," Ianto's voice came out sharper than intended.

"Okay, we'll just take it one day at a time," Methos said gently.

Ianto took a breath "I apologize, I shouldn't have snapped."

Methos sighed, "That's a fancy word for sorry."

Methos not wanting Ianto to apologize was irritating, "Don't you want me to apologize?"

"Trust me Ianto, if you ever do or say something where you really need to apologize to me, you'll know."

"Okay."

"Okay. Now, please eat."

…

Though Methos continually insisted he didn't have to Ianto volunteered to wash the dishes. Methos relented only because Ianto had already started by the time Methos realized what he was doing. Methos had been looking over his garden and he came back in to find Ianto already at the sink.

As they got ready for bed later Methos told Ianto, "I'll be up awhile, I suggest you get some sleep tonight. And if you want to clean, could you do it during the day? Waking up to a clean house makes me think I've got brownies or whatever it is that cleans magically."

"I'll try," Ianto said.

"If you have a nightmare and want to talk about it, you can come into my room. Feel free to wake me if I'm not already."

Ianto nodded, "Thank you."

Sometimes and very rarely when Methos was thinking he paced. It didn't happen often because everyone viewed him as a relaxed individual but there were times when pacing was called for.

He paced the length of his bedroom. Perhaps it would be best to just throw Ianto into training, have him adjust by total submersion. It might distract him enough so that he wouldn't have nightmares.

But Methos hadn't managed to make the young man smile today. He needed to find out about Ianto's likes and dislikes. So far all Methos knew was that Ianto liked suits, seemed to love coffee, was apparently possessive of the coffee machine he had in his reality and liked Brains. Except for the suits and his OCD and anal retentiveness, he was pretty much a typical Welshman. Methos wondered if he liked rugby. He didn't seem the type, but he couldn't in good conscious call himself Welsh if he didn't like rugby.

However if the shopping was any indication, Ianto's favorite color was red. Unless it was blood anyway. He also, despite having been only thirteen the last time he saw 1996, had extremely high fashion sense. Apparently his father had sold suits at Debenhams and had instilled in young Ianto what a gentleman should dress like—even if that gentleman happened to live on a council estate. Guess daddy Jones held to the belief that if you act like a success you will one day be a success.

Methos was still awake around one when he heard Ianto's screams. All right, that's it, the boy was going to sweat it out. He hurried to Ianto's room.

Ianto was already awake and sitting up in bed, breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?" Methos asked.

"Did I wake you?"

"No, I was already awake. Do you want to talk about it?"

Ianto took a breath, "I was in the countryside again, Sherman had the knife to my throat."

Methos sat next to Ianto on the bed, "You are too young to have been through so much tragedy. How long do people in Torchwood live anyway?"

Ianto looked down, "They always die young, nobody lives to collect their pension."

"I don't like this Torchwood. What's the point of it? I thought UNIT dealt with aliens."

"Torchwood was created first by Queen Victoria in 1879."

"How'd that happen?"

"Long story, it involves the Doctor."

"That must be interesting."

"Yeah well, I don't think I can sleep tonight."

"Well then, I think I've got an extra sword around here. Let's see what you can learn before dawn."

…

Methos took Ianto down to the basement which was kitted out as a weapon's room. The walls were lined with swords and weapons from different eras.

"You _think_ you've got an extra sword, huh?" Ianto said.

Methos shrugged, "So I was under estimating."

"I thought you didn't like to fight."

"I don't, that doesn't mean I don't like to be prepared."

"Is there proper clothing we have to wear?"

"What's wrong with what we're wearing?"

"We're both in just our underwear."

"So? You need to relax Ianto. You've Celtic blood, don't be so shy."

Ianto sighed, Methos had a point. And after being with someone like Jack, Ianto should never be shy again. He would have to work at that. "All right, I'll try my best. It's hard you know, the way I was raised. In the locker room, you had to keep your eyes straight staring at your locker. You got beat up if you were caught with your eyes wandering."

"You must have grown up in a rough neighborhood."

"Council estate in Newport so, yeah you can say that."

"Did you ever get beat up?"

Ianto looked away, "So what are you gonna teach me tonight?"

"I'll take that as a 'I really don't want to talk about it right now.' All right, first thing, you are far too tense." Methos moved behind Ianto and began to massage his shoulders.

Ianto would be lying if he didn't admit to himself that he found the strong yet supple hands on his skin arousing. But he was only gay for Jack. Wasn't he? Maybe he wasn't and maybe that was part of his problem: Denial. The more he thought about it the more he had to admit to himself that denial had been a problem for a while.

Jack had thought Ianto had been arrested for shoplifting in his teens and had spent four weeks in jail. But that wasn't true. That was just the story he had to tell people and when he got the chance he made it look official in the event someone should look it up.

"Can I ask you something?" Ianto groaned as Methos kneaded his knotted muscles.

"Anything you like. You always this tense? You're wound tighter than copper wire."

"Yeah well…I know the ancient Greeks and Romans had no problem with same sex relationships, that's well documented. What about the Celts? To my recollection, I haven't seen any indication in the history books."

"And whoever told you to trust history books? Before the Romans the Celts didn't have a written history. Not long after the Romans, there were the Christians. Do you think Christian historians would have recorded something like that?"

"If they wanted to warn people against it."

"Or maybe they wanted to erase it from history. Raised Christian were you?"

"Methodist."

"Damn I called it, had you pegged as a Methodist."

"You've known me three days and I haven't been to church in years."

"My dear boy," Methos stopped massaging and moved around to face him, "I am older than Moses, I can spot a specific religion from a mile off. That young woman who was in line in front of us at the market, she's a novice druid."

"But she was wearing jeans and a tank top and no religious jewelry."

"And yet, there you have it. But in regards to your question, the Celts had no problem with homosexuality. It was only about gender when one had to reproduce. Normally a typical Celtic man, like a Greek man didn't care what hole he stuck his cock in."

"Just as long as he got some, right?"

"That's right."

"What about women with women?"

"Just as hot as it is today. Now," Methos went over to the sword wall, "I think we'll start you off with a fencing foil and work our way up."

…

By the time the sun rose Ianto had decided that Methos was evil. Methos was impressed that Ianto was able to keep a good grip on the sword and had learned some footwork just by watching TV.

But Methos was a very unusual teacher, he didn't tell Ianto the names of any of the moves, never once did he say thrust or parry or anything like that. He just came at Ianto with the other fencing foil as if they were little boys playing with sticks and Ianto had to think quickly to defend himself.

Ianto caught his breath in the ray of sunlight that came in through the basement window, "What was the point of all that? Did I learn anything?"

"That was an assessment of your current skills and what we both learned is that you can think on your feet and that is very important. Sometimes in a battle of life or death that's all you can do, you won't always have time to follow the rules of combat. Mind there are rules you must always follow."

"I know those ones."

"All right, what are they?"

"One on one only, no interfering with another's battle, no killing on holy ground and it's very bad form to kill your own student."

"Hmm, what episode did you learn that in?"

"Season 4 episode _Through a Glass, Darkly_. Duncan's friend Cochrane lost his memory after killing his student."

"Oh yes, Mac made me pull Cochrane's file. Well, come on take a shower and then we'll have breakfast."

…

"You should try and get some sleep today," Methos had made a full English breakfast.

Ianto picked at his food, "I know."

"And will you eat? What's your aversion to food? You ate those sandwiches well enough that first day."

"I know. Sometimes…I can't explain it."

Methos sighed, "I'd take you to Sean Burns but that's sort of impossible."

"Duncan killed him when he had his Dark Quickening."

"It's like you're psychic. Do you know who Darius is?"

Ianto nodded, "He was a priest in Paris, friend of Duncan's."

"Would you like to talk to him?"

"Isn't he dead?"

"Is he supposed to be?"

"Well no, the writers had to kill him off. The actor died of brain cancer."

"Well he's not dead. He's now a vicar in London. I found out Horton was killing immortals and I knew he'd go after Darius. I warned Darius and he left the church before Horton got there."

"But he's still a priest."

"True but he's now a priest who can have sex. I don't understand why he ever decided to be celibate for so long." Methos made a sandwich out of his toast, eggs and sausage "please eat, Ianto."

Ianto put a forkful of eggs in his mouth. Once he swallowed he said, "sometimes when I feel really hungry I can eat like a Welshman like with the sandwiches. But more often I just don't feel like eating. I'll eat with others, like my team but if I'm by myself I won't eat."

"How long have you been like that?"

"Since I was fifteen."

"Something traumatic happen?"

Ianto looked down at his plate.

Methos reached across the table and put a hand on his arm, "would you rather talk to Darius in the confessional? I can arrange it."

"Maybe."

"Now finish your breakfast. You're not leaving the table till you clean your plate."

A corner of Ianto's mouth turned ever so slightly upwards.

Baby steps, Methos, baby steps. He would get that boy to truly smile if it was the last thing he did. Well, maybe not the _last_ thing. Gods knew he was never _that_ desperate.

…

Later Methos went out back to weed his garden. Ianto offered to help but Methos ordered him to try and take a nap. Methos had a small stone circle in his garden that was considered holy ground. It had been there longer than his house and he had it re-blessed by a druid priest every so often.

He sat down in the center of the circle and closed his eyes. He needed a good bit of meditation after that quickening the other day. Just as he managed to clear his head, he felt Ianto approach him.

"Yes Ianto?"

"How'd you know it was me? Your eyes are closed."

"Anyone else would have announced themselves seeing that I'm sitting on holy ground."

"This is holy ground?"

"All stone circles are. Being Welsh you ought to know that."

"You sound cranky."

Methos opened his eyes, "I apologize. I was meditating. You need something?"

"You don't have a television."

"Nope," Methos twisted to his feet, "why?"

"TV time table in the paper says Doctor Who is supposed to be on today. I'd like to check it out."

"I think they've got some on VHS now but I guess we still need a TV for that. Okay, we can get one. It's no big deal."

"In Greek mythology all roads were sacred to Hermes, did that make them holy ground?"

Methos grinned, "Yup. If an immortal wanted to kill someone in Ancient Greece he had to lead them off the road. It was great. 'Fraid they've been desecrated since, Orthodox Church doesn't view them the same. Jerusalem is also a nice place to visit."

"The Holy City, I've always wanted to go there."

Methos stepped out of the circle, "Then we'll go sometime."

"You believe in holy ground, do you have a faith?"

"I believe in everything and I can adapt to anything."

"I don't think that answered my question. I guess what I'm asking is what was your first religion? Did you have one?"

"Yes. I worshipped the Mother Goddess." He left it at that, "Anything else?"

"No, I didn't mean to interrupt you."

Methos sighed, "It's all right. So you couldn't sleep huh?"

"No."

"I can make a sleeping potion tonight if you want."

"If you think it'll help, I'll try anything."

…

Ianto had found an old radio and he turned it on for some music. The quiet in the old Victorian was starting to get to him. Methos was still in the garden and had insisted that Ianto at least try to relax. Ianto wanted to ask Methos about the Horsemen but if his tone in the car was anything to go by, he wasn't keen on the subject. Besides, being with Jack had taught Ianto that you don't ask questions about a man's shady past; he'll tell you if he wants to.

He was glad to have found the radio, not many were aware but Ianto always listened to music when he worked in the archives. The archives, they were bound to go to pot without him. And who would Tosh talk to? Tosh always talked to Ianto and Ianto talked to her in return. Mind you, most of the time they just sat in comfortable silence. And what would Jack do without him? Get over him relatively quickly probably—maybe he'd already found someone else to share his bed with…

"Ianto," Methos came into the living room, "are you okay? You're crying."

"I'm starting to miss my friends, I guess, Tosh, Myfanwy and Janet."

"Co-workers?"

Ianto nodded, "Tosh is our tech expert. Janet is a weevil."

Methos blinked, "A beetle?"

"No, a type of alien. We keep her for observation. She's almost tame."

"And Myfanwy?"

"She's our pet pteronodon."

"A dinosaur?"

Ianto nodded and told him about the night he and Jack caught Myfanwy. "I almost kissed him that night, I wanted to."

"Why didn't you?"

"I think if I had I would have confessed everything," and finally Ianto told Methos about Lisa.

By the time he got to the part where he'd found the cyberwoman had killed the pizza girl and switched the brains, he was gasping for air through his tears and Methos was holding him tightly. "I couldn't kill her," Ianto sobbed, "I just couldn't. Then the others were there and they shot her, like a firing squad."

Methos rubbed his back soothingly, "I am so sorry you had to go through that," he kissed Ianto's forehead, "so sorry. You're very brave, you know. You risked everything to save the woman you loved and maybe it didn't turn out the way you wanted…"

"Because I was stupid, I didn't think it through…"

"You thought she was still Lisa. You never meant for anyone to get hurt. That means you have a pure heart."

Ianto sniffed and pulled away from Methos's shoulder to look at him, "So do you. You risked everything to save Alexa."

"Yes, but it didn't bother me to know some idiot watchers got themselves killed. You are a far better man than I."

"No, I'm not. Two people are dead because of me."

"And you will have to live with that but you never meant for it to happen. You feel guilt. That makes you better. It makes you stronger."

"But I've lied to people, lied to Jack about my past."

"How much of a past could a 24 year old possibly have?"

"My childhood then; it's not as nice as I led people to believe."

"So you didn't tell Jack your father was a drunk?"

"No, but there's more…"

Methos put his thumb and forefinger under Ianto's chin, "you don't need to talk about it today. I think we've cried enough for now. We can go and see Darius tomorrow if you like."

"I don't mind talking to you but there are some questions I'd like to ask him."

"All right then, I'll arrange it. We'll take the train."

* * *

…

_So, yay, Darius is alive in this reality! _

_Also, I looked it up, way back when I was first writing this and there are Methodists in Wales. Why did I go with Methodist? I'm not really sure to be honest. Anyway, it's really not important to the story._

_Ianto has a lot of issues and insecurities that we'll find out more about in the next chapter. Visiting with Darius will help. Also I haven't decided if I'll keep the scene I've written where Ianto and Methos run into a watcher classmate of Adam Pierson's who's also an architect and his boyfriend. I might end up just mentioning it instead of having the whole scene, 'cos they're sort of real people. However, seeing this architect's boyfriend is both going to help Ianto and freak him out a little. Any guesses?_

_Bronwyn_


	4. Chapter 4

_Remember that scene I mentioned, that I hadn't decided whether or not to put it in? Well, I went with it. I figure since I didn't use their surnames it'd be okay._

_In this chapter, Ianto and Methos travel to London to visit with Darius and I must warn you I've taken a few liberties with the man. Hard-core fans might not agree so I ask you to keep an open mind. In fact, this story is chock-full of liberties. We also find out where Ianto really was those four weeks as a teen. No offense is intended._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of John and Scott, they own each other. In the UK and California._

_BTW, I haven't yet decided if the friend Duncan is camping with is going to be important or not. I think he is but I haven't figured out how to introduce him._

Ianto slept through the night but Methos suspected it was only because of the potent sleeping potion he'd made him. Methos told him only half the cup would work but Ianto drank the whole thing. It knocked him out cold.

So much so, that he was still asleep when Methos woke up at 7:30 the next morning. Methos shook him, "Ianto, Ianto wake up. We've got to be at the bus station by ten." He pulled Ianto into a sitting position but the sleeping Welshman promptly fell back against the pillows.

Methos sighed, "Next time, when I say half a cup, I mean half a cup. You silly boy," he shook Ianto again. "Okay you asked for it," he went down to the kitchen and filled a bowl with ice water. He went back to Ianto's room and threw it on Ianto.

That did the trick.

Ianto woke with a gasp and scream, "What the hell?" He noticed the water and ice cubes and his glare fell on Methos "What the hell was that for?"

"You weren't waking up and we have to get to the bus station," Methos replied simply, "now come on, get dressed and pack an over-night bag."

Ianto was still groggy after his coffee but he hadn't had any dreams that he could recall so that was good. He grumbled on the way to the bus, "So we have to take a bus and then we have to walk to a train station?"

"What's wrong with that? Was a time when we didn't have buses. A hundred years ago I had to walk fifteen miles in the snow to reach the train station."

"You sound like my grandfather."

"Mind I didn't live there very long."

Ianto actually smiled as he rolled his eyes, "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"Your tad-cu a story teller was he?"

Ianto nodded, "Every chance he got. He worked for the mines. He died when I was ten, cancer."

"He your dad's dad?"

"Uh huh."

They fell into silence after that but it was a comfortable silence, if you call Ianto still being ticked at the ice water thing comfortable anyway. They didn't have cause to speak again till they got off the bus and were on their way to the first train.

"I'm feeling more awake now," Ianto announced, "and I am no longer upset with you for throwing ice water on me."

"Thank you. I had to wake you up somehow. Next time just don't drink the whole potion, all right?"

"Understood and noted. I slept very well though, thank you."

"Well you can't have the potion all the time, I'm afraid it's habit forming."

"Got it. Is Darius expecting us?"

"I called him last night. It's up to you if you want to tell him the whole truth but if you do, know that Darius can be trusted even if you don't use the sanctity of the confessional."

Once on the train Methos asked, "How do you feel about Queen?"

"I assume you mean the band. The same as everyone else with taste, I love them. Who doesn't love Queen?"

"MacLeod. Man's obsessed with opera."

"Jack's not overly fond of Queen either. He's into Glenn Miller and stuff like that."

"And stuff like that'? You are young. Mac likes Miller too. I like jazz as much as the next person but I'm not a super fan."

"I told Jack that Glenn Miller was dead and he replied that he was not dead he was missing."

Methos chuckled, "I think Mac led the search party."

Ianto's shoulders relaxed and he smiled a little, "You like Springsteen too right?"

"Yep, I don't have a particular favorite of the modern stuff though and I wouldn't call myself an expert on a lot of things. What about you? You're young, what music are the teenagers listening to these days?"

"Let's see, mid-nineties, boy bands and the Spice Girls are hot. But I never listened to either," he added quickly, "I like Classic Rock, '80s music and some heavy metal and alternative, I especially like The Ramones. Why do you ask?"

"I want to know what you like because I know when your birthday is."

Ianto blushed, "You don't have to do anything for my birthday."

"I know."

"When's your birthday?"

Methos thought for a moment, "I haven't the foggiest idea but I'm using July 17th for Adam Pierson. Guy who played me, do you know when his is?"

"September 5th 1962."

Methos stared at him, "Damn, you are a fan aren't you?"

"Maybe a little. Peter Wingfield went to medical school till he chose acting as a career and he was a national trampoline champion."

"I didn't know trampoline jumping was a sport. So they got a Virgo to play me. That's interesting."

"Why?"

"I think I'm more of an Aquarius."

"Well you are very weird."

"What's weird is that you're a Leo, you are nothing like a Leo. You are more like a Virgo, if you ask me."

"I think it's my rising sign. Why are we having this conversation?"

"I'm not sure."

…

They talked about music a lot on the way to London—and sang a few bars of Pet Semetery. Ianto learned that Methos was partial to Greek and Celtic music. They talked about films and TV shows as well. Methos liked some science fiction but Ianto after living it every day couldn't stand it and they both liked crime dramas; Ianto liked the action and Methos found them amusing.

During the moments when they lapsed into silence Ianto found his mind wandering. It'd only been a few days but he trusted Methos and liked him quite a bit better than he did when the immortal was just fictional. And if Ianto was honest with himself he was attracted to the man. He had thought Jack would be the only one but Ianto had locked himself so deep in his closet he'd forgotten he was in there. Once he'd gotten involved with Jack he didn't exactly leave his closet, he let Jack visit and he told himself Jack was the only man he'd ever want.

God was he messed up.

"You okay?" Methos asked.

Ianto blinked, "huh?"

"You're staring at me."

"I am? I didn't realize."

"Miles away, huh? Best careful or you'll turn into Mac."

Ianto smiled slightly, "Well we can't have that."

"Goodness, no. What's on your mind?"

Ianto shrugged, "Different things, dark closets mainly."

"Those can be dangerous places if you're not careful. You can get lost in them."

"I know. It can be suffocating. Can I ask you a question?"

"You don't need to ask if you can ask me a question."

"Right," Ianto took a breath, "hypothetically speaking can a gay man fall in love with a woman?"

Methos nodded, "You can't control who you fall in love with. A person may have a preference but they don't always fall in love with it. Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering."

"Uh huh," Methos checked his watch, "few more minutes till we get to London, Darius will meet us at the station."

"So we're done with the transfers then? 'Cos that was getting tiresome."

"We only changed trains twice. But I agree, we'll drive next time."

…

Ianto hadn't recognized Darius not dressed like a monk. He looked quite normal, he wasn't even dressed like a vicar, an off duty vicar maybe. And he spoke with a light Greek accent, Ianto just barely stopped himself from saying 'you don't sound German'. So instead after introductions he asked Darius "Is that a Greek accent?"

Darius smiled, "Yes, I come from Thebes originally."

"The San Francisco of Ancient Greece," Methos said, "only not by the water."

"Really?" Ianto asked.

There was a blush to Darius's cheeks as he answered, "As I've not been to San Francisco I cannot definitively say. Shall we go?"

Methos grinned and whispered to Ianto, "It was and he was a regular patron at the Golden Horn."

If Darius heard that he pretended he hadn't.

When they got to Darius's vicarage he fixed them tea. While he was in the kitchen Ianto asked Methos, "What's the Golden Horn?"

"It was a gay bar."

Ianto's eyebrows shot up, "And Darius went there? But Darius…"

"Is Greek," Methos said "didn't we have a discussion about Greek men?"

"Right, in the series the watcher chronicles say he was Goth and his first death was in 90 AD."

Methos rolled his eyes, "That was when he first got on watcher radar. The society isn't perfect, I can attest to that. It really is like you're psychic."

"What about you?"

"What about me what?"

"Did you ever go to the Golden Horn?"

"Methos was a regular performer," Darius came into the living room with a tea tray.

"I was bored," Methos shrugged.

Ianto stood up, "May I help you with that?'

Darius gave him a smile and set the tray on the coffee table, "No but thank you. Methos, wherever did you find such a polite young man?"

"There was a sale in Cardiff. That's where they make them these days you know."

"Well at least they're still making them," Darius poured the tea.

"I don't know, I think Ianto might have been the last one."

Ianto's cheeks were on fire, "So Methos, what did you do at the Golden Horn?"

Methos leaned back with his tea cup, "Lap dances, they put dinars in my loin cloth."

Ianto's lips quivered upward at the image, "Are you serious?"

Methos just grinned in response and his eyes twinkled.

Ianto rolled his eyes, "You're as bad as Jack."

Darius sighed, "They didn't put dinars in your loin cloth, Methos because you weren't wearing one."

Ianto leaned back and crossed his legs.

Methos chuckled, put his cup down and stood, "I'm going on a walk for a bit. I'll leave you two to get to know each other."

…

Methos had already told Darius that Ianto wanted to talk and Methos felt it would be easier for the boy if he wasn't in hearing range. Besides Methos needed the walk to clear his head. It had only been a few days but he'd grown quite fond of Ianto, but what precisely kind of fond, he wasn't sure yet. Methos had fallen for Alexa upon first seeing her but Ianto was immortal and so much more complicated.

Ianto was a very handsome young man and it was clear he was attracted to Methos but Methos doubted he'd get over Jack any time soon. But in Methos's opinion Jack didn't deserve it. From what he knew of Jack so far, he didn't deserve Ianto at all. Nobody did, not even Methos.

He walked an hour away from the vicarage and then walked the hour back. He wanted to give them plenty of time to talk.

Darius opened the door before he could knock—not that he would have. "We were getting worried."

Methos stepped inside, "No reason to worry about me. I'm tougher than I look."

"Ianto's in the kitchen." Darius closed the door, "I hope you don't mind we ate dinner without you."

"Not at all, did he eat?"

"He even had seconds. There are leftovers for you."

"Is he doing the dishes?"

"He offered."

"Did you talk?"

"Yes, we had a very enlightening conversation. He told me about the alternate reality."

"He did huh? You made sure no one was listening?"

"Of course but I don't even have a permanent watcher. They have a researcher check on me every so often."

Methos nodded, "I know, his name's Scott, we were at the academy together. He's an architect by trade, researcher part time. Only joined the watchers because it's a family thing. He know you're on to him?"

"I don't think so."

"Did Ianto talk to you about anything else?"

"Yes and that's all I'll say. He will talk to you about it when he's ready."

"Right so what's for dinner?"

"Pizza."

…

Darius had one guest room but it had two beds.

"Do you feel better after talking to Darius?" Methos asked as he and Ianto got ready for bed.

Ianto nodded, "I do. Thank you for suggesting it. I learned something interesting about him too. I guess you know he was high priest to Ares."

"Oh yes, Darius would defend Ares to the death."

"I think he still might if the way he vehemently stated that Ares was nothing like the way the myths portray him. Apparently warriors of Ares never harmed women and children, only killed when no other choice and were gentlemen."

Methos nodded "They were."

"How did he get such a bad rap then?"

"I'm really not sure. Did you ask Darius?"

"He blamed Athena followers and Alexander the Great for some reason."

"Oh he blames Alexander for a lot of things. He'll even blame the Christians if you really get him going."

"Then why is he involved in a Christian faith?"

"You didn't ask him?"

"Didn't get around to it."

Methos flopped down on his bed, "I think it's easier. He adapts, he has to. But I think if he had reason to, he'd go back to his Lord Ares in a heartbeat. But you must remember that no matter whom he says he worships, Darius is a good man."

Ianto sat down on his bed "This world, it's all so new to me." Ianto suddenly had a pressing question "Methos, you're older than Stonehenge, right?"

"Older than its completion, yes. Why?"

"Who built it?"

"The Welsh."

"I knew it! So, not alien involvement then?"

"Are you kidding? Have faith in your own race, boy."

"I do, it's just Owen's always going on about aliens and all the ancient structures. It was really annoying."

"How much older is Owen than you?"

"Year and a half."

"There you are. He was teasing you. But Salisbury was once part of Cymru, the Welsh are responsible for Stonehenge. Don't listen to the English. Owen's English, isn't he?"

"Cockney."

"There you are again. And for your information humans built the pyramids too. Just because something may not be "possible" today does not mean aliens were behind it back then." Methos's tone was a bit harsh.

"You seem to be very sensitive about this."

Methos sighed heavily, "You know, I like science fiction but I hate alien conspiracy nuts."

"Then you don't want to hear about Highlander II."

Methos turned over on his side and looked at him, "What?"

"Well, the Highlander TV series was based on the first Highlander movie which was about Connor. It was a bit weird to have a series considering Connor won the Game by killing the Kurgan."

"And there was a sequel?"

"And three other movies after that. The last two starred Duncan and were based on the series not Connor's original plot line."

"Was I in these last two?"

"Yes, hardly in Endgame but more in The Source."

"Endgame sounds pretty final and there was one after it?"

Ianto nodded, "In Endgame Connor made Duncan kill him so he'd have the strength to kill the bad guy. The Source was pure crap in my opinion."

"So I won't like the plot."

"I sincerely doubt it."

"Then tell me some other time."

Ianto wondered if he should have said the outcome of Endgame but then decided that if it looked like anything stupid in seasons, 5, 6 and the following movies could be prevented then he would do his best to do so. It was very fangirl of him but maybe that's why he was here. But he was _not_ about to become a Mary-Sue and he would _never_, NEVER admit how he knew what that term meant.

"Are these writers on crack or something?" Methos asked.

"Probably, especially near the end."

"Well let's talk no more of it tonight. I want to try and sleep. We talk any more of this and I might get nightmares."

"Okay. Is there anything you want to talk about?"

"Only if you do."

"What did coffee taste like before it was mass produced?"

"Like coffee. Ianto, I'm sorry but I'm not a connoisseur. However, I do know a place where you can get it fresh from the source. I'll take you sometime."

Ianto took a breath and decided to rip the bandage off, so to speak. "I let everyone think I spent four weeks in jail for shoplifting when I was fifteen."

"Let everyone think? You weren't really?"

"No. My father sent me to a hospital."

"What kind of hospital?"

"Where parents send their gay sons to be 'cured'."

Methos sat up, "What?"

Ianto nodded, "Baptist run, outside of London."

"Those places are hell holes," then Methos blinked, "There are Baptists in Britain?"

"There's a presence."

"My Goddess, Ianto."

"No wonder I'm so fucked up, right?"

"What did they do to you?"

"A lot of it was constantly reciting Leviticus and exercise and hard labor. Sweat it out, you know. But if you were particularly rebellious and stubborn you were taken to the basement." Ianto started to shake.

Methos had moved over to sit next to him and took his hand, "What happened there?"

"The Inquisition essentially; there was Chinese water torture. If you were still rebellious you got electric shock."

Methos's arms were around him "Did your father know what they did?"

"I don't know" Ianto leaned against him "but I know he signed some sort of form. It could have been about liability."

"I hope you don't mind me saying I hope he burns in whatever hell he must have thought you'd go to."

"I don't mind. But it's all so confusing still."

"Why? Surely Darius told you homosexuality is not truly a sin. If God didn't like it, it wouldn't exist in the first place."

"Yes, he said that. But I've been in this closet so long; the light's been turned on and the door opened but I don't know if I can walk through it."

"Did you ever talk to Jack about this?"

"He wouldn't have understood. He didn't believe in labels and categories."

"And you never told him about those four weeks?"

Ianto shook his head "When I got the chance I made the story of being arrested look official."

"You put a false conviction on your record so no one would know you were in a Baptist hell hole?"

"I'm fucked up, what else can I say?"

Methos sighed, "I wish I'd been able to stop Mac from killing Burns."

"You think I need a therapist?"

"You need something, kid, you need something."

….

Methos smelled coffee as he woke the next morning, coffee and bacon. Ianto was not in his bed; in fact it was made so neatly one could probably bounce a coin off it. Curious Methos made his way to the kitchen. Ianto was at the stove.

"Good morning," he said with a smile as he flipped the bacon.

"Hey," Methos said, slightly confused. Just last night Ianto had been a blubbering wreck "Morning."

Ianto poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Methos.

"Thanks," Methos took a sip, "you feeling better?"

"Much, talking really helped. Though I think I still have a lot to work through."

"Whatever you need, Ianto, I'm here. Where's Darius?"

"Church, it is Sunday. He said to help ourselves."

Methos set his coffee on the kitchen table, "Anything I can do to help?"

"Nah, I'm good but thank you."

A breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast was ready a few minutes later and they ate in the kitchen.

"Methos, how do you suggest I get out of this closet?" Ianto seemed more subdued than he had been while cooking.

"I thought we were in a kitchen."

"Methos."

Methos sighed, "I really hate that metaphor. Just walk out Ianto; you said the door was open."

"I know but…"

"Run out and jump in. What are you so afraid of?"

Ianto shrugged, "I'm not sure."

"Aren't you?"

The young man swirled his fork around his plate, "Judgment, rejection."

Methos reached over and snatched the fork away, "Everyone's afraid of that for one reason or another. Why d'you think I don't tell people about the Horsemen?"

"It's not quite the same thing though."

"No, I was a murdering rapist," Methos's tone came out harsher than intended. He sighed, "You're just gay. You should have an easier time."

"But I don't. I never know who to trust, if they're going to be accepting or disgusted. That's why I never told anyone about my time at Shady Oaks."

Methos blinked, "Shady Oaks? This place was called Shady Oaks? That sounds like a retirement home."

"I know."

"Maybe you could try group therapy with other young men who've been to such places, who've been repressed and are having trouble waking up."

"Is there such a thing?"

"I'll find out. Would it be something you'd be interested in?"

Ianto pursed his lips a moment, "Maybe. Do you think we can go somewhere tonight, just to see?"

"Where?"

Ianto's cheeks flushed, "A club maybe."

"What kind of club?"

"Don't make me say it."

"Ianto, if you can't say it then you'll never get out of that closet."

Ianto took a breath, "A gay bar."

"Was that so hard? Yes, we can go to one if you want. Might be fun to drag the vicar along as well."

"We don't have to do that. Wait, are bars even open on Sundays? I never paid attention before I was legal."

"Tell you what, let's pick West End or one of the other places and walk around today. We'll check the open times."

"West End, it's closer."

…

Ianto couldn't help it, he knew it was irrational but as he and Methos walked down the streets of the West End he felt like everyone was staring at them. And they weren't even holding hands.

"You're doing your copper wire impersonation again," Methos said.

"I can't help it."

Sighing Methos linked their arms together, "you need to relax. People can smell fear you know. The more confident you are the more people will respect you. But don't be arrogant, there's a big difference. Besides it's just the West End, mostly the musical theatre crowd."

"I have noticed that if Jack is overly arrogant he loses respect and people just think he's a snobby idiot."

"See."

"Adam? Adam Pierson?"

Methos stopped in his tracks. A rather cute Englishman was approaching them and did Ianto really just think that?

But what froze Ianto was the man with the Englishman, he looked like a younger version of Jack, maybe by about ten years or so.

Methos released his hold on Ianto, "Scott, hi, fancy meeting you here."

Scott smiled, "Yeah, it's been awhile" they shook hands "good to see you."

"And you. Who's your friend?"

Scott blushed cutely, "This is my boyfriend, John, John my old friend Adam."

The man called John grinned "Nice to meet you" he and Methos shook hands.

"Likewise" Methos nodded "this is Ianto. Ianto?" Methos waved his hand in front of Ianto's face "You okay?" then he snapped his fingers and said in Welsh "Ianto, snap out of it."

Ianto shook his head then held out his hand to the two men "Sorry. I'm Ianto."

"Scott," Scott shook his hand.

John grinned and grasped his hand next "John, nice to meet you, Ianto."

Ianto stepped back, "God, you even say my name like him."

"What?"

"Ianto?" Methos put a hand on his shoulder.

Ianto took a breath and whispered in Welsh "He looks just like Jack, sounds like him too."

Methos replied "Tell them that."

Ianto switched back to English "I'm sorry John but you bear a disturbingly striking resemblance to…uh…my old boss."

Methos rolled his eyes "For God's sakes Ianto."

"Well I don't know how to describe him. He never talked about what we were. I'm starting to think it was just sex for him."

"Then he didn't deserve you at all and he knew that, that's why he didn't address it. You're better off without him."

Ianto blinked "Am I?"

"Oh my God, what did he do to you?"

"What makes you think he did anything?"

"You were already emotionally damaged and you got involved with a commitment-phobe."

John cleared his throat "Should we leave you guys alone?"

Ianto took a shaky breath "No, it's okay. I'm sorry; he has a point" It was the truth, Ianto realized "I am just a completely fucked up individual. You looking like Jack, I guess it's not helping."

"Do I really look like your ex?"

"Well, you're much younger and I guess it's true everyone has a double."

"He must have really hurt you."

Ianto sighed "I don't believe it was ever his intention but…"and Ianto remembered at the last millisecond not to say Methos "Adam's right, I was already damaged. When I was fifteen my father sent me to a 'hospital' where they shoved Leviticus down our throats and used electro-shock."

In precise unison John and Scott said "Oh my God."

…

"They make a cute couple," Ianto said on the way back to Darius's, "John and Scott."

Methos nodded, "I think they'll last."

"Me too. Scott looks at John the way I looked at Jack. Difference is John looks at Scott the same way."

"Yep I see great things for them. Good luck to Scott though if John becomes really famous."

"I think it's great he's an actor, maybe one day he'll play Jack. I bet he does if Torchwood is ever introduced to Doctor Who."

"How much?"

"50 quid."

"You're on," they shared a smile then Methos said, "Ianto, I'm sorry about earlier. I upset you in front of strangers."

"Don't be sorry for saying what you mean. You were right being with Jack only screwed up my psyche more. But I don't think I'll ever think the worst of him. He never meant to hurt me," Ianto took a breath, "you're also right, I should have told him. I think that's why I told John and Scott about Shady Oaks."

"You were pretending John was Jack."

"Maybe for a few moments. But I'm glad I told them. They were very understanding. I'm a little jealous though, they both have such accepting families."

"Some people are lucky." Methos took Ianto's hand, "What do you want for dinner?"

….

_So, how was it? Please review if you still like what's going on._

_So, next chapter we go to a nightclub and we find out more about Ancient Greece._

_-Bronwyn_

…


	5. Chapter 5

_This is a little shorter than the previous chapters. In this chapter we find out a dash more of Methos and Darius's antics in Greece, we meet someone new, go to a club in Brighton, and Ianto has a dream._

* * *

At dinner that night Methos said, "Darius, tomorrow Ianto and I are going to a club in Brighton. Would you like to come with us?"

Darius's fork was paused halfway to his mouth, "Why do I get the feeling that if I say no, you'll trick me into it anyway?"

Methos smirked, "Come on, General, you need to let loose every once in a while."

Darius sighed, "Very well, I suppose you do need a chaperone. Ianto is young and you are a lecherous old man."

Ianto spit out his milk in a snort of laughter.

Methos glared at Darius, "Very funny."

…

When Methos got back to the room he was sharing with Ianto after his shower he found Ianto and Darius giggling about something. "What are you two chortling about?"

Ianto's cheeks were pink as he gazed at Methos, who was only wearing a towel and was that lust in his eyes? How interesting. "You," he said simply.

"I thought my ears were burning. What have you been telling him Darius?"

"Oh this and that," Darius smirked.

"Yeah, but what about this and what about that?"

Ianto was smiling and it was quite nice to see, "Darius was telling about the time you got drunk at the Golden Horn and started shouting insults about Zeus."

"Really?" Methos dug in his bag for a clean pair of boxers, "I don't recall that."

"Of course you do, Methos," Darius said, "A few of my men and I were called to quiet you down."

"Apparently," Ianto added, "you had run out into the street completely starkers and told anyone who you could grab by the tunic what a dick Zeus was."

"Well he was," Methos muttered as he dropped his towel and pulled on his boxers, "Your turn for the shower, Ianto."

Ianto stood up, "Darius was just about to tell me what you did next that got you executed on the spot."

Methos sighed, "I may have set fire to Zeus's temple—it was just down the street."

…

Ianto had gotten hard at the sight of Methos in that towel and then when he dropped the towel…oh god. He didn't like the idea of pleasuring himself in someone else's shower but he had no choice—the cold water didn't do a damn thing. Hell, his hand was barely good enough. Sometime he was going to have to go after the real thing—if Methos would have him. Oh, the thought of running his hands over Methos's firm and chiseled abs….

Maybe he was too messed up for the older man. Maybe he needed to give himself more time to get over Jack and why, why did Ianto apparently have a thing for older men?

…

The next morning brought rain, which wasn't surprising as it was London. There had also been fog that didn't dissipate till lunch time.

"You still want to go out tonight?" Methos asked Ianto over lunch. They had spent the morning watching a documentary about Sparta that Darius wouldn't stop scoffing at.

Ianto swallowed his bite of grilled cheese sandwich, "Yeah, I'm Welsh. A little rain isn't gonna put me off. Do you still want to go out?"

Methos glanced out the window, "You call this rain? Boy, you haven't lived."

Darius chuckled.

"So, Darius," Ianto said, "can you tell me some more about Thebes? Or the rest of Ancient Greece in general?"

Methos rolled his eyes, "Just as long as he doesn't keeping going about how wrong that film was. Honestly, Darius Thebes didn't even like Sparta."

"We liked them better than Athens liked them." Darius took a drink of water, "What would you like to know, Ianto?"

Ianto thought for a moment, "Which gods had temples in Thebes?"

"Oh, all of them really but there were a few that had more than others. Thebes was under the protection of Zeus and Hermes. And the Band of Thebes worshiped my Lord Ares and his son Eros. Apollo was also quite popular in the gay district."

"There was a gay district?"

"Oh yeah," said Methos, "it's where the Golden Horn was. In fact, as I recall Apollo was its patron deity."

"That's right," Darius nodded, "And all roads were holy ground."

"Yeah, Methos told me that because they were sacred to Hermes."

"Speaking of Hermes," Methos said, with a look of fondness in his eyes, "his priests were the hottest of all priests. No offence to the high priest of Ares here, of course."

"None taken," Darius said, "because I agree with you."

"Really?" Ianto asked, "How so?"

Methos leaned back in his chair, "Hermes was the god of athletes, speed, boxing and gymnastics mostly and his priests were required to be in the best of shape. They were all lean and chiseled and had the best tans. They were always naked, you see."

"Not always, Methos," Darius said, "they wore clothing in inclement weather."

"They didn't go outside in inclement weather, Darius. And yes, if you call a sheet draped over them like a sash clothing. They covered up indoors when it was chilly. It barely covered them though." He said to Ianto, "it was only barely modest if they stood perfectly still without a breeze. And the temples of Hermes were like YMCAs."

"Really?"

"Indeed," Darius agreed, "they had weights, hot pools and rooms to board in. They welcomed all travelers."

"It was free too," Methos added, "though it was good form to leave an offering of some kind."

Ianto had to pee, "May I be excused?"

Darius smiled, "Such manners, of course you may."

When he was finished in the hall bathroom he felt the presence of another immortal maybe a second before the doorbell rang. Seeing as he was closest he may as well answer it "I'll get it," he called.

He opened the front door to see a rather attractive blond man in a trench coat. He had light olive skin and quite honestly the most dazzling blue eyes Ianto had ever seen. He would win in the Dazzling Blue Eyes Olympics against Jack, no doubt. He gave Ianto a kind smile and asked, "Is this the residence of Vicar Darius Megalos?" he had an American accent.

Ianto kept one hand on the door, "Who wants to know?"

The man's smile widened, "You'd sound more belligerent if your voice wasn't shaking, young one."

Methos stepped up behind him, "He asked you a question. Who are you?"

"I apologize," he presented a badge, "I'm D.I. Aaron Marsden. I need to speak to the vicar. Who are you?"

"What do you want with Darius?"

Behind them Darius sighed, "I can take care of myself, Adam. Please come in, Detective."

The detective stepped in and Ianto closed the door.

"How can I help you?" Darius asked.

D.I. Marsden regarded Darius a moment, took a breath and said, "First I'd like to apologize if I've interrupted anything."

Darius nodded, "Quite all right."

"Now, Vicar, I understand a Bobby Reynolds is a member of your congregation?"

"Yes, is he in trouble?"

"You don't sound surprised."

"Come on, Ianto," Methos took his arm and spoke in Welsh, "let's go on a walk. I don't think Darius is in danger. Besides, the D.I. isn't even carrying a sword."

"I make it a point not to when I'm on duty," D.I. Marsden said in English. "What? Surprised I understand Welsh?"

"A little," Ianto said, "you sound like a Yank."

Marsden's grin was also more dazzling than Jack's, "I take it he's new. Hon," he said to Ianto, "if you live long enough you'll learn that when it comes to immortals, walking like a duck and talking like a duck doesn't always make you a duck."

"Very true," Methos nodded. "Come on, Ianto, how about ice cream?"

"It's raining and I don't like ice cream, gives me a headache."

Methos opened the door, "You are a strange, strange child. If you're going to make me drool over coffee, I'm going to make you drool over ice cream. You probably just haven't been eating it right" he grabbed their coats and shoved Ianto out the door. "By the way, Darius, I'm borrowing your car."

…

Ianto sighed once they were on the road, "Do you ever ask for permission?"

"When the situation calls for it," Methos flicked on the wipers, "besides Darius already said I could use it when I needed to."

"Do you think Darius will be all right?"

Methos nodded, "I think Marsden actually means to do his job. By the way, next time an immortal comes to the door, please don't answer it, at least not until you are ready to carry a sword."

"Sorry, I was closest to the door, force of habit, I guess."

"It's okay, we were lucky. But you're an easy target for head hunters; just be careful. Now, Ianto, why don't you like ice cream?"

"It gives me a headache."

Methos sighed, "Did you at least like the flavor?"

"Yeah, there was this triple chocolate mocha flavor I tried once. It was tasty but…" he trailed off and looked out the window.

"Does milk give you a headache?"

"No, so I know it's not the dairy."

"Hmm, maybe it's just because it's cold, colder than milk. Your body's gotten so used to drinking hot coffee, anything colder than something from the fridge gives you brain freeze."

"Maybe, a Frappuccino gave me a headache once."

"A what?"

"It's pretty much a coffee milkshake, only minus the ice cream. Have you…damn, did Starbuck's even have Frappuccinos in '96?"

"I wouldn't know as I haven't been to Starbuck's but I have heard of it."

…

Methos, because he was a good guy, didn't force Ianto to have ice cream and he bought him a fancy coffee. Methos had an ice cream cone though and he was positive he was making Ianto drool over it.

The way Methos was eating was bordering on pornographic and he also had the attention of all the women in the shop, well except for that one with the short hair and suit jacket. That WAS a woman wasn't it?

Out of the corner of his eye, Ianto's tongue was poking out ever so slightly between his lips. And wasn't that enough to give Methos a hard on? That tongue looked so tantalizing.

Methos barely kept himself from chuckling wickedly at the look of desire in the younger man's eyes. If they weren't in a public location, he was sure Ianto would be pouncing on him right now because he was leaning forward and tense and looked quite predatory. Methos barely kept himself from leaping across the table. But he wanted Ianto to act on it, to be sure he was over Jack. However if Methos for one second thought he was nothing more than a rebound shag, he'd stop it right there.

Suddenly Ianto's demeanor changed and he looked around. He realized they were being watched "Adam," he whispered in Welsh, "people are watching."

"I know." Methos chuckled; he was finally down to the cone, "You really need to learn to relax, Ianto. If you're a good boy, I'll tell you about the Boston Tea Party."

"You were there?"

"Yep, we got drunk, dressed like natives and threw boxes of tea into the harbor."

"Surely it wasn't as simple as that?"

Methos shrugged, "It was for me. I was just looking for a party. Ah," he looked around the room, "they're less interested now that they know we're Welsh." He put his mouth around the cone, tipped it back and sucked out the remaining ice cream.

Ianto chugged his coffee.

…

That night at the club in Brighton, Darius pulled Methos aside in the men's room, "Stop tormenting the boy."

Methos cocked his head innocently, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Darius sighed, "Yes you do."

Methos shrugged, "He wants me. I'm trying to make him act on it. He's so damn shy."

"I've noticed that and you don't want to force yourself on him."

"That's right" and not wanting to delve into that topic Methos changed the subject. "So, what did that D.I. want?"

"To do his job. He asked me questions about one of my parishioners."

"And what did this Bobby Reynolds do?"

Darius shook his head sadly, "He's been accused of rape."

"Oh. Speaking of, I'm going to make sure Ianto's not being harassed."

"I think the boy can take care of himself. I have one more thing to tell you; D.I. Marsden, he looks like my Lord Ares."

Methos arched an eyebrow, "You've seen Ares in person, have you?"

Darius was actually flustered, "I am high priest, I know what I'm talking about." Methos didn't point out that Darius said 'am' instead of 'was'. The priest continued "And his name is Aaron Marsden, think about it."

"Oh my God, you think he's Ares?" Methos laughed, "I can't believe you. He's an immortal, Darius."

"My Lord Ares has been known to disguise himself…"

"Do you hear yourself?" still chuckling Methos left the bathroom and went back to where they left Ianto.

Some flaming fruitcake was trying to cozy-up to him and Ianto was backed against the wall. Feeling suddenly alpha-male-like he quickened his pace, "Ianto, cariad, there you are" he put a hand possessively on Ianto's shoulder, "Sorry about that, but I told the boss to shove it. He won't be paging me again tonight. Hello, who's this?"

"Hi there," the fruitcake said cheerily holding out his hand. "I'm Brian, Ianto was just telling me about you." God, he even sounded like a flamer.

Methos took the offered hand and squeezed hard, "Was he? How sweet of him."

"Well, um" Brian stepped back, rubbing his hand, "I think I hear someone calling me" he scurried of.

Ianto sighed, "Thank you. I hope you don't mind, I told him we were together but that didn't seem to bother him."

"We must think alike, I saw you were uncomfortable. That's why I acted like we were."

"I appreciate it, he was asking for a threesome. How'd you scare him off?"

"Nearly broke his hand. I expect he'll need it tonight."

Ianto smirked, "If you didn't scare him into impotency."

"Oh I haven't done that in centuries."

…

Despite his growing attraction to Methos, that night Ianto dreamt of Jack.

They were sitting on the couch in Jack's office drinking coffee.

"What would you do?" Ianto asked him.

"What do you think I would do?" Jack set his mug down.

"I think you'd go for it."

Jack grinned, "Damn right I would. He's rather good looking."

Ianto smiled, "He is, yes. So you approve?"

Jack took Ianto's hand "You don't need to ask for my approval. I just want you to be happy."

Ianto stared into his eyes "I'm not sure I'm ready. I miss you."

Jack cupped his cheek, "I miss you too but Methos can give you what I couldn't."

"You mean what you were afraid to."

Jack sighed, "Well, yes."

"The weird thing is, Methos has a much bigger dark past than you. Why do I seem to have an attraction to older men with dark mysterious pasts?"

Jack chuckled "Two isn't a habit, Ianto. Three, then we might have problem but I don't think you have to worry about that."

Ianto flopped back against the couch "But it's only been a week, Jack. How can I fall for someone in only a week?"

"You were attracted to him before weren't you?"

"When he was just fiction, yeah."

"Still, you knew a lot about him before so, in a way it's been more than a week."

"Maybe…" Ianto let out a breath, "when I was stabbed and I woke up, it wasn't pleasant."

"I know."

"Coming back to life is just as painful as dying."

"Yes it is."

"I think I understand you better now," the scene around him began to fade—Ianto was waking up. "Jack, will you remember me?"

Jack smiled and squeezed his hand, "Will you remember me?"

"Captain Jack Harkness, you're impossible to forget."

"So are you, Jones, Ianto Jones."

…

Ianto opened his eyes to a ray of sunlight streaming in through the shutters. He sighed and felt quite refreshed. It was a new day and a new life, he was going to start enjoying it. He couldn't go back and even if the opportunity presented itself, he wasn't sure he would. A piece of him would always belong to Jack but it was time to move on. Maybe it had only been a week but even immortals weren't promised tomorrow.

He turned over on his side and looked over at Methos who was just waking up in the other bed.

The older man yawned, "Morning," he said as he saw Ianto "you okay?"

Ianto flashed him a smile, "I'm great."

…

* * *

_So I figured that was a good place to end the chapter. I hope you like that last little bit. And don't worry, I'll try not to make them move too fast but as Ianto said even immortals aren't promised tomorrow. However, before we develop Ianto and Methos's relationship further we're going to be going back a few days and see what our buddy Duncan's been up to. I'm still working on his camping trip though so I don't know when I'll have it done. _

_So, do you think Darius is right about D.I. Marsden? Interesting theory. Anyway, I've gone over this chapter more than five times I'm sure so if I've missed any typos I apologize._

_-Bronwyn _


End file.
